More than Enough
by VilyaSage
Summary: For Empress Dotdotdot's fic challenge! There's only a bit of angst in here. Months after the rising of the Golden Sun, all is quiet in Vale...save for the turmoil of thought in one person's mind as he looks at one of his friends in a whole new light.


More than Enough

By: Vilya

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own 'em.

This is for Empress Dotdotdot's fic challenge! I hope you enjoy it!

I don't suppose I knew what the heck I was doing, really.

I guess it was loneliness. Or insanity. I've been accused of both, though not too often anymore, since we all know we're crazy and it's hard to be lonely with all these friends and all this family.

It must be some kind of curse, really. I mean…I do have family. A family that loves me. Had them for as long as I could remember, until this whole 'quest' thing started. I missed them a lot, once I left Vale. But it was difficult to miss them.

Because even though they have surrounded me for my entire life, I always felt alone among them. I was, after all, different. In ways that most people couldn't see. I couldn't even see them, in the beginning, but those ways were there. Noticeable, barely at first, but more so as I grew older.

Grew away from my family, and my friends. And my sister. I was close with her, as a child; we were like best friends, despite our differences. But little by little, we became like strangers. Sure, I'd still give my life for her, and she for me. But these days, every time I'm around her, I feel…so uncomfortable. I can barely stand it, sometimes, and I have to leave the house, get out and walk around a bit.

Especially now that she's with _him_. It's tolerable, being around her; I will never be able to stand the man she has chosen as her own. He's so…thickheaded, really. So stupid. The things he says, when he says them…they have no meaning.

But he does love her. And I suppose she loves him, too. Another way in which I'm different, different from everyone else I know. They all love him, in their own way. He's one of their saviors. One of the boys who saved Vale. Oh, what a thrill.

Aren't I one of them too? Don't I get any recognition? I wasn't that important to my village as a child, either; it carries over to now. It has carried in ways I could never have imagined. I remember, once, the five of us…him, his sister, his best friend, my sister, and me…we all played together often by the river, and my sister and I fell in. It was ages before they got me out, but they got her out almost right away.

Would they have been glad to lose me, I wonder? Good riddance to bad rubbish?

How can I think like this? With everything I have now, I'm still cursing that good-for-nothing…_person_ who has taken my sister. But I shouldn't be. I have love of my own, after all. And it is a wonderful thing.

Ivan, Sheba, Mia and Picard all came back to Vale with us, after the quest. They helped rebuild it, and they agreed to stay for a while, though Picard's ship didn't fit on the river, so we had to fly it over and set it off in the forest. He still goes there every day, making sure nothing's happened to it. Obsessed, I tell you. He's had that ship forever, though, and quite literally—he won't tell us how old he is, but I think he did mention once that he was older than that fool Kraden.

Mia spends all her time with Isaac, now. I suppose they've found that they were meant to be with each other. I knew it, of course, from the first time I saw them stand together. They were arguing, but they didn't mean it. You could tell from their eyes, the way they looked at each other. The spark there was unmistakable.

Most days, you can find Mia, usually with Isaac in tow, visiting someone else, perhaps someone who hasn't had visitors in a while. She's that kind of person—she _knows_ those things. She can remember who she's seen and whom she hasn't. When she isn't visiting, she's in the sanctum arguing—_arguing_—with the Great Healer himself. Back before I left…that would have been unheard of.

Trust Mia to be able to take him on and win. She could talk a Wonder Bird out of its feathers, if she put her mind to it. It's sort of diplomacy with a vengeance. And a sunny, innocent smile. I've never met anyone quite like her, actually; moods that can change in half a heartbeat, and very convincingly. Jenna's somewhat like that too, but her moods tend to mostly revolve around variations of angry. Or maliciously excited.

Ivan discovered Kraden's library, hidden in a cave near his house. It was full of books about Alchemy, and Psynergy, and a few other things that I'm not sure even Ivan understands. But he's reading them, one by one. He won't be like Kraden was—he's far too clever and enjoys mischief a bit too much for that—but he'll be Vale's or Kalay's next resident sage, for certain.

Last Christmas, and I don't know how he did it, he gave all of us Mimics, wrapped up like gifts. As I recall, Mia froze him in place while Jenna smacked him around a bit with a staff. Wasn't her staff, though. She likes the swords better.

And Sheba sits alone a lot, on top of the highest hill she can find. I wonder, more often now than I did before of course, what it is she thinks about up there. Her past? The family she never knew? Or the family she _did_ know, in Lalivero?

I would like to ask her these things, but of course I can't. How could I intrude on her thoughts, her private daydreams and ideas, like that? It would be rude of me, and it would feel wrong. It's not my business, what Sheba thinks.

Or is it? I mean…I'm her friend, and I _am_ worried. She's up there right now, actually. Sitting, all by herself, alone with the wind. Ivan said once that, occasionally, it was like the wind was speaking to him. Is it like that for Sheba, here in Vale? Do the winds speak to her, as my element often speaks to me?

And here I thought that was one of my differences. One of the things that set me apart from everyone else. I suppose I may be wrong. It's happened before. I've already proven once that I'm not what everyone thinks I am, anyway.

That's it. I'm going up there. I don't like heights, even my own elemental lighthouse made me extremely dizzy, but I'm going to find out what Sheba thinks about. And perhaps more besides.

The ground around here's still pretty broken up, from the rising of the Golden Sun. It's hard going to reach the top of anything, except for Isaac's roof, still the ideal stargazing spot. But there she is, sitting alone up there on the grass, eyes closed, hair wild in the breeze.

I remember once, we were all back together again on Picard's ship, and we were heading for, I believe, a place called Izumo. I was sitting up on the highest deck, looking at the sky, using the excuse of watching out for an attack to just take a break from doing anything that meant a lot of work.

And Sheba showed up, up there. Just walked up and sat beside me, without even a word. I think we sat there for at least an hour, not talking, like we were not talking on purpose. After a while, we looked at each other and just started giggling. Uncontrollably. The giggles turned into laughter, a laughter that came right up from your belly, out from your very soul, and threatened to take over, to steal from you all the air you had and leave you winded there on the ground because you couldn't stand and laugh so hard all at once.

The best kind of laughter, that.

There was another time, when we found ourselves alone together, Sheba and I. Another river, a different cave, and a set of eighteen wild Djinn, too. But neither of us likes to recall that particular incident. Every so often, if I think about it too hard, my hand still twitches. Like it did just now. Annoying, but it reminds me that anyone can pass his perceived limits if the situation is pressing enough.

And here I am, standing up here now with Sheba. She hasn't noticed me yet, and I get the privilege of looking at her for a few moments longer in the silence. She's beautiful, truly. Her hair, still short, still the same color, like the sunrise bouncing off a far-off window, and currently swaying with the wind, looks soft, gentle like the rest of her. You'd never guess, with this young-looking, innocent exterior, that Sheba's one of the most powerful of us Adepts, if there is such a ranking among the eight of us.

Her eyes are open now, though I'm not sure if she sees me. Unlike Ivan's violet eyes, Sheba's are a bright turquoise; they turn darker, bluer, when she's worried, and lighter, more towards green, when she's been making mischief. Her eyes are those of a child, but a child who has been made to grow up too fast—mystery and wisdom are held in those depths. Mystery, wisdom, and fear. Of what, I'm not certain.

She definitely sees me now, and without speaking I sit beside her. And here we are, not talking again, just like that other time. You can see all of Vale from up here, and a bit into the lands beyond—way over to the east is the Goma Range—and I suppose that's why she likes it. The feeling of being up high, at the wind's mercy.

Frankly, I'm quite fuzzy right now, and the world is moving a bit more than it should. But that's just the height, as usual. I can't stand high places, with the possible exception of my roof, or Isaac's.

A month ago, my sister finally admitted that she had feelings for another. And she started bringing him around more and more often. And I hated it, as I can't stand him. And when I needed to talk, to someone, anyone…I went to Sheba. She promised me I wasn't imposing, and she listened. By Sol, Mars and Venus, she's a good listener. She didn't ever reply to a thing I said, but I didn't need nor did I want answers. I just wanted the silence of another human being.

The wind does almost seem to talk, up here. Like it's sharing its secrets, but only with those with the drive to make the climb and listen. I can't hear any words, of course. But perhaps, just maybe, Sheba can.

I think about asking her, but I don't want to ruin the moment. This is indeed a wonderful, beautiful moment. Whatever flowers grow up here, they smell wonderful in the breeze, and the air is light and the sun is shining up there in a sky that matches the color of Sheba's eyes. And there's one cloud, a puffy white one, floating all by its lonesome up there. It looks kind of like a turtle.

"I think it looks like a rabbit, myself," Sheba says, winking over at me. I smile. And then she giggles, and I do too. It feels right, laughing together. I haven't laughed with such real feeling in days.

Then, suddenly it's that full-blown laughter, both of us throwing our heads back onto the ground and laughing until we can't draw enough breath to keep it going, but we're still hilarious on the inside. I should ask her, right now, what she thinks about. But then I wonder if I shouldn't. I don't want to ruin the moment.

"I think about you, mostly," she says, and I just stare. Did I really just hear that? Does she think of me just as I do of her? With the questions and the similes and the colorful description?

"Usually," she answers, a sly smile on her face.

"Stop reading my mind!" I cry, but it's a jest only. I only wish I could speak in her mind so freely. It might make the silence a bit less silent. For both of us.

"I can't help it, Garet," she says, sitting back up again at almost the same moment I do. "You offer such entertainment."

"So do you," I retort. I stand, and I offer my hand to her. She takes it, and in that moment, that beautiful frozen portion of time, our eyes meet. Her blue to my red. What does she think when she looks at my eyes?

"I think of a warm fire on a cold winter night, waiting for me to come home to," she says, blushing. I'm probably blushing, too, I can't tell. "Of red roses in the summertime, draped all across bushes and trellises."

"How girly."

"I'm a girl. Live with it."

"I will. I promise I will. If you let me."

How bold of me. I can't believe I've said these things, not to fragile, crystalline Sheba. But I have, and she's smiling like I've made the world right again all by myself, and I must be smiling like that too, I can feel it on my face.

So this is what it feels like. Love, for real.

Suddenly, I don't detest Felix so much anymore. Thinking of Kay doesn't make my stomach roll. And the height bothers me about as much as one drop of water bothers a bonfire.

"Sheba…this, this is an awkward question, really…but…do you think you might…like me?"

"Of course I like you, Garet. I like everyone. Well, except for Saturos." We both laugh.

"No, I mean…_that way_."

"Oh. Well, in that case, no, I don't think I like you."

My eyes widen, and my face…I bet I look like my life just fell apart. I sure feel like it has.

"But I might love you," she adds, that mischievous grin on her face again.

And I kissed her.

Did I know what the heck I was doing? Who knows? I sure don't, and I probably never will. Neither does she, I bet. But that's alright, for now. Because I have her, and she has me.

And that's more than enough.

(It won't let me place an end-of-story border...)

Wow. This all came out of my fingers in less than an hour. Seriously, between two and three in the morning, I wrote this whole thing. I hope you liked it. I'm a Garet/Jenna, Felix/Sheba or Ivan/Sheba person, myself, so this was definitely not a usual pairing. But I did enjoy writing it. The way it flew off my fingers was indeed incredible. Now…off to reviewing? I'll even give you a magic arrow!

Oh rats. It won't let me do an arrow, either!


End file.
